Throne Room

I don’t know about you, but when I listen to my worship music I see it in my head. I get visuals of the song being acted out. The other night I was listening to “Throne Room” by Kim Walker-Smith. As I listened to each word she sings out I began to picture it.

She sings “I run to the throne room”. I see a close up of bare feet. They are frantically running down halls. Turning, trying to find their destination as quickly as possible. I see two giant double doors. They are beautifully ornate. The weight of the doors in comparable. I see the back of a woman who puts one foot behind her to use all her might to fling the doors open. It’s an even more beautiful sight; a grand throne room. The sunlight pours in and shimmers off the gold that has been used to build it. She races past column after column to reach the steps before the throne.

Next, she sings, “I fall on my face with angels and saints and all I can say is Holy, Holy, Holy are You God.” I see her. She has reached the steps. She doesn’t simply drop to her knees, but rather she flings herself to the ground. She throws her arms out to the side of her in complete and total surrender. Her eyes are closed now as she is “undone” at the sight of Him. She can not gather the strength to speak any word other than “Holy”.

Angels now line the throne room. They have gathered to watch her as she cries out in ways they can never understand. “The weight of Your name” is too much, she can’t contain it. “Holy, Holy, Holy are You” is still all the she manages to get out. She is still laying at the base of the steps when a foot comes down one step at a time. He is wearing sandals, but they don’t hide the holes in His feet. She closes her eyes as she is overwhelmed with His majesty.

Suddenly, she feels a warmth come over her. Where she was once frantic to reach Him, she now feels a peace. There is no more fear, only His “perfect love” remains. She becomes overwhelmed by this. Again, the weight of His name is too much that she can’t even say it. She begins to cry out again, but this time only moans come forth. She lays there as He continues to comfort her. She does not need to form words as He knows what she needs.

I am not the woman I see in this vision. Why not? Why do I not frantically run to Him every day? I am welcomed in the throne room of the Most High God. Why do I not take advantage of this? I have found myself there before in the darkest moments of my life and I have felt Him step down from His throne to comfort me. But why do I only do this during the difficult times? Every day that I wake up the first thing I should do is take off running to Him. To fling myself before all His glory. To cry out to tell Him that He is Holy! I don’t even need to use words, but if I can find the strength I will cry out “Holy, Holy, Holy are You God”.